This Unfamiliar Road
by DSBJellyDonuts
Summary: What if Rumplestiltskin was able to subvert the curse… for a price? In exchange, he could have the power to arrange the marriage of Princess Emma and get his son back all in one fell swoop. And if he happened to decide his own son is the one the princess should marry, then all the better. The only question remaining is this: could this marriage of convenience become something more?
1. Chapter 1

**This Unfamiliar Road**

**Chapter 1**

A knock at the door alerted Bae to his father's presence. Grimacing, he answered - "Yes, Papa?"

"Baelfire!" The Dark One swept into the room, commanding attention in a way he reserved solely for those times when he had convinced himself that he had discovered the key to regaining his son's affections. Despite these convictions, he had yet to succeed in doing so, and the four years since Bae's return had been fraught with tension between the two.

After spending countless years barely surviving in a cave on the shores of Neverland, Bae had one day been plucked up out of his life - if you could call such an existence a life - by the one fairy he'd counted as a friend. Without word and without explanation, she had carried him through a portal and back to the Enchanted Forest, a place he'd hoped never to see again. Unceremoniously, she deposited him on the doorstep of the very man he'd spent centuries dreaming of - at first with the fervent hope that he would come to his rescue, then later in his nightmares, over and over, as he released Bae's hand while clinging to the dagger. Clinging to the dagger, clinging to his power, to his greed and his gold and all of the things that mattered more to him than his own son's well-being. As far as Bae was concerned, his father was gone, replaced by this monster who somehow thought he could win the affections of the boy who had once adored his Papa.

"Yes, Papa?" Bae asked again, eyes rising to meet the former spinner.

"Pack your things! Tomorrow we shall leave on our journey," he cackled, exuding an attitude indicative of the fact that he felt Baelfire should accept this as a great gift.

"What journey?" Bae questioned, dread rising as he considered the possibilities. He shifted in his chair to fully face his father, never dropping his gaze, willing himself to breathe in the midst of the storm that was sure to arise from the answer.

"The journey to retrieve your bride, of course."

Bae was silent, staring at his father for a moment. "I have no bride, Papa," he replied flatly.

"Which is precisely why we are going to retrieve one for you," the Dark One said, giggling at a joke that was evident only to him.

Bae's stunned silence returned, and in his shock it took a few moments for him to regain his power of speech. "What have you done, Papa," he replied anxiously, more an accusation than a question, as he was certain that he did not really want to know the answer.

"You hide in your room for days on end. You refuse to associate with me, in fact you refuse to associate with anyone... it is high time you have a companion. I was promised a young woman in a deal some time ago, and it has come time to collect."

"You arranged to acquire me a wife _in a deal_?" Bae said, jumping to his feet. "Papa, I cannot - I _will_ not!"

"Suit yourself, dearie, but you know what happens to those who break deals," came the flippant reply.

"You can do whatever you like to me," he replied impertinently, "I won't go along with this scheme."

"Ah, but you're not the one who made the deal, now are you? If the marriage falls through, then the deal will be broken, and those who made the deal will be the ones to pay the price."

Bae closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a breath and steeling himself for the answer to the question he'd not yet asked. "Who made the deal, pray tell?"

"Why her parents, of course."

"Papa, you cannot kill them!" he exclaimed, voice rising again. "They are innocents!"

"Ah, but if the deal is broken, someone must pay the price, Bae. That's how it works - and it will most certainly not be you."

Baelfire took a step towards him, lifting his head and pulling his shoulders back as he took a stance against the Dark One. "You must stop meddling in my life, Papa! First you arranged to have me brought back from Neverland and deposited into your clutches… only to spend four years controlling my every move. Now you're requiring me to marry or have this family's blood on my hands?!" He was irate now, utterly incredulous at the lengths to which this _monster_ would go to in order to win his affection. Bae found it troubling enough when his own life was decimated by actions that were apparently meant to protect him, but dragging other people - innocent people, who had nothing to do with the situation - into the mess was utterly unconscionable.

"Tinkerbell assisted with your return at great benefit to herself. As for this family," he said with an indifferent shrug, "they sealed their own fates when they chose to make this deal. Likewise, it is your choice whether to assist them in upholding it or not."

Bae heaved an angry sigh. "Papa, perhaps we can go speak with them, modify the bargain somehow. I cannot - I _will not_ - have their blood on my hands. We need to find a way around this situation."

"There is no 'way around it,'" he sneered, "They must uphold their end. My portion of the bargain was delivered long ago, and in exchange I was promised the choice of their daughter's suitor."

Bae, catching the loophole in his father's statement, leapt at the possibility of altering his father's thinking. "Cannot she marry someone else? If the choice is yours, why must you choose me?!"

"I can think of no young man more deserving than my own son! You are in need of companionship and this marriage will do the trick nicely. The deal is set and it _will_ be fulfilled - or the family will pay the price." He was in Bae's space now, uncomfortably close and frighteningly intense.

Bae refused to back down under his glare, despite knowing that he was in an unwinnable battle. Locking his brown eyes with ones that bore no resemblance to those of the father he so adored, he spat an answer at the monster that wore his father's face. "If it is a marriage your require to spare their lives, a marriage there shall be."

"Very well, then," his father replied as he turned to leave, clearly pleased with himself and calming as quickly as he had spiraled up. "We leave at first light."

"Papa?" Bae called after him, taking a deep breath as he forced himself to speak evenly. His father paused in his exit, waiting for the question that was sure to follow. "Who, pray tell, have you arranged for me to marry?"

The Dark One turned back to Bae and a small smile threatened at the corner of his mouth as he replied. "A young woman about your age from the northern kingdom. I believe her name is... Emma."

"Emma? Surely you cannot mean _Princess_ Emma," Bae replied, incredulous once again.

"Yes, that's her," his father confirmed airily as he resumed his exit. "This agreement was to save her from a fate far more heinous. It shall be a favorable arrangement for both of you."

"Being forced into a marriage shall not be favorable for anyone!" Bae yelled after him, the battle with his temper forgotten in his shock, but the only response was the resounding closure of the solid wood door.

* * *

><p><em>18 years prior...<em>

Snow White paced back and forth across the ornate rug that lay at the foot of her bed. Her husband, Prince Charming, sat perched on the edge of a nearby chair, leaning forwards as he was engaged by his wife in conversation.

"I think we have to do it, Charming," she implored.

"We cannot let that man control her destiny," he replied, desperation evident in his voice.

"He _already_ controls her destiny," she said, subconsciously placing a protective hand over her midsection. "He will allow this curse to be cast, and she will be alone until she is an adult. Utterly alone, he said - no family, no friends, no love."

"But you'll be with her," Charming said, rising to his feet and moving to where his wife was pacing. Their plan wasn't what he would have chosen for their life, but it was a plan that would keep his wife and child safe, and in the end, that was all that mattered. He placed both hands on her upper arms and gave them a gentle, reassuring squeeze, halting her pacing and commanding her attention. "She won't be alone."

Snow shook her head, slowly, sadly, as she moved to meet his gaze. "The imp said she'd be alone."

"He lies!" he exclaimed, unable to wrap his mind around using the word of the Dark One to make such a decision about the path of his child's life.

"Charming," she said softly, "Rumplestiltskin is many things, but a liar is not one of them."

"But you're to go - you're to go with her in the wardrobe," he argued. "That's the plan!"

"He can see the future," Snow replied. "Something must happen to change the plan. If he says she'll go alone, we have no reason not to trust him."

"We have _every_ reason not to trust him," the prince stated firmly.

Snow shook her head sadly. "Not in this we don't. We've had many dealings with him before, and although his motivations are always murky, not once has he lied to us. Given all of our options... we need to agree to his deal."

The prince dropped her arms, shoulders slumping in defeat. "She should be free to marry whomever she wants. Our daughter is born of true love - she should have the opportunity to find a love of her own."

"And perhaps she yet shall. You know how that imp twists things, changes deals - look how he did so with Ella, agreeing to give her back Thomas and let her keep the baby in exchange for a simple trinket."

"You don't think he'll follow through on the arrangement of her marriage?"

She sighed. "I think that even if he does, she'll have had eighteen years of love and a solid upbringing to prepare her for that life. Those marriages often blossom into something more... my parents' did."

Charming frowned. "Nonetheless, I don't like it."

"Nor do I, dear Charming, but if the alternative is twenty eight years alone..." She took a deep, steadying breath and let it out slowly. "We have to give her her best chance, David. I have to believe that _we_ are her best chance. Not some life alone in a far-off land."

Her husband nodded, slowly and resolutely, and sunk back into his chair, resigned in the decision. "He needs to be a good man," he stated plainly, and Snow tilted her head to the side as she questioned him.

"Rumplestiltskin?"

David let out a bitter laugh. "I think the time for that has long passed. But Emma's suitor... whomever he chooses for her... we need to stipulate that he be a good man. I won't have my daughter married off to someone who will do her harm."

Snow's head bobbed in agreement. "So we agree, then? If Rumplestiltskin can subvert the curse, can keep Emma safe and in our care, then we will consent to his arrangement of Emma's marriage."

The prince met her gaze solemnly, no hint of a smile to be seen. "Yes, Snow. We agree."

* * *

><p><em>Present day...<em>

"No, Colleen. Thank you, but I don't think I like that one either," Emma said to the handmaiden who was standing in her bedchamber, holding out the sixteenth dress in a row for the princess' inspection.

"Princess Emma, this is the last of the dresses in the wardrobe."

"Oh," she replied, frowning slightly. "What about the dark green one?"

"That was made for a ball several seasons ago. You've grown three inches since then, so your mother instructed that we be rid of it."

"Hmm," Emma replied. "And there is no possibility to make another gown before the ball?"

"I could ask the seamstress, but with less than a week to go, I find it doubtful that she would finish it to your satisfaction."

"Hmm," she replied again. "The navy might be an option then. Why don't you grab that one and-"

"The sea foam?"

"No, Mama hates the sea foam," Emma said, shaking her head.

"The color is lovely dear," her mother affirmed as she breezed into the room, "but the cut does not flatter you about the waist. And we wouldn't want to start any rumors, particularly at this ball of Alexandra's," she said with a laugh.

The ball in question was to be this weekend, thrown by King Thomas and Queen Ella, to announce the impending arrival of an heir for Emma's dear friend Alexandra. The neighboring kingdom allowed marriages at the sixteenth birthday, and though it baffled Emma, Alex had been so moon-eyed over Abigail and Frederick's son James that they'd been united mere weeks after she came of age. It was a beneficial union for both kingdoms, Emma understood, but nonetheless it left her thankful that her own parents had not yet pushed her towards finding a suitor. They too had married young, she knew, but even waiting a few years into their twenties seemed to provide allowance for so much more _life_ than marrying at just sixteen.

As for herself, Emma wanted to do far too many things - embark on adventures, travel the realm - to yet be ready to settle down. She'd marry eventually, she supposed - if only to produce an heir of her own - but there was no hurry there. If her parents' legacy rang true, perhaps she'd even find her own true love, rather than marrying for political alliance as so many of her friends were prepared to do. In the interim, she was content to hone her archery skills, travel the countryside on horseback and continue her tutelage on the diplomacy of the kingdom. Heavens knew those studies would be necessary if she was ever to rule - nearly eighteen years she'd been alive and she'd yet to learn to hold her tongue. Her mother had long since declared it hopeless, but her father was undeterred in his insistence that her temper may yet be tamed.

To her credit, the princess saved her sharp tongue for moments it really mattered, and just as she'd been taught by her mother - passed down from her mother before her - it would never, never be levied at the servants. And so, despite her displeasure at lack of appropriate attire for the ball, she remained gracious.

"Mama, what do you think?" she asked, looking up at her mother standing before her.

"I think the navy will suit you nicely. You've not worn it yet to a ball," she replied as she took a seat next to Emma.

"No? I thought King Midas' birthday..."

Snow shook her head. "It was similar in color, but you've outgrown the one you wore then. That was nearly two years ago."

"How do you remember these things, Mama?" Emma asked with a laugh.

Snow smiled demurely. "Acquired skill, my darling daughter. Some day you will do the same."

"I'm afraid not," Emma replied. "I have no eye for these things. Ball gowns are not my forte."

"Emma…" Snow said, hints of an oft-repeated argument evident in her tone.

"I know, I know," she said with a roll of her eyes, "I cannot wear my riding trousers to the ball. I am not suggesting such a thing! Merely noting that unlike most of my peers, I do not live and breathe for the Saturdays we spend in fancy dress."

"You are my daughter after all," Snow said with a chuckle. "I would expect nothing less."

"What?" Emma replied in mock astonishment. "The daughter of the great warrior Snow White, preferring trousers to ball gowns? Do not tell Daddy, he will faint dead away from the shock of it all."

"Your father fainting at the shock of anything is perhaps the most amusing notion here, dearest Emma," Snow replied, and both mother and daughter descended into a fit of giggles at the picture it painted in their minds.

It was Emma who recovered first, and she surfaced for air with an apology. "I'm so sorry Colleen! I don't know what's gotten into us. The navy will be lovely for Saturday. Thank you so much!"

"My pleasure," Colleen replied with a curtsey as she ducked out of the princess' bedchamber, arms full of rejected dresses. This left mother and daughter alone to resume their giggles, and they did so without delay.

"Poor Colleen," Snow finally gasped out as she attempted to recover.

"Mama, I should think she'd be used to it by now, we only giggle like children several times a week."

"My darling girl, whatever would I do without you here to keep me young?" Snow looked at her daughter with a glimmer in her eye, leaning over to wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her into a hug.

"Certainly life would be quite boring," Emma replied as she returned the embrace. "I am sure running a kingdom would occupy none of your time."

"None whatsoever, my dear Emma," she laughed in response. "Nor tending the staff, or spending time with your father..."

"Where is Daddy, by the way?" Emma asked, tilting her head in a manner reminiscent of her mother.

"He had an appointment in the village," Snow replied. "He should return shortly."

"Perhaps I'll walk down to meet him, now that the dress fitting is done," Emma mused.

"Very well," her mother replied, "Just bring him back in time for supper. No heading off on an adventure and forgetting to eat!"

"Yes Mama," Emma said with another giggle. "I'll make sure we both return in time to be fed."

With that, she darted off towards the foyer, and out onto the road beyond. The road towards the nearest village saw little traffic this time of year, with most harvests complete for the season, and so Emma was able to enjoy a few moments of solitude on the mild autumn day as she walked. Several minutes into her travels, she spied her father galloping towards her on horseback, and she happily called out to him. "Daddy!" she cried, greeting him with a wave and a smile as he slowed the animal.

"Darling Emma," he replied, pulling at the reigns to halt the horse as a grin overtook his face. Dismounting, he asked, "What brings you out here?"

"Mama said you'd gone to the village. I thought I'd take the opportunity to meet up with you and enjoy the weather. Did your appointment go well?" she replied. They began to walk side-by-side, Charming leading the horse with one hand as Emma linked her arm in his free one.

"Indeed. I settled a dispute between farmers over a piece of land. I would have been back hours ago, but I was waylaid by a merchant who was concerned about the expiry of our trade agreement with Avonlea. I must have explained five times before he understood that the agreement does not expire for more than a year yet, far too early to begin negotiations."

"Goodness," Emma said in response. "You have the patience of a saint. I would have bitten his nose clean off."

"Nonsense, Emma," he replied with a fond look at his daughter. "You'll learn, in due time, just as I have."

"I suspect matters of sword and bow will remain my forte," she said with a laugh. "Now come, Mama was adamant we not be late for dinner."

With that, they returned to the castle and the small family dined - blithely unaware that this dinner together would be the last they had before their world was turned upside down.


	2. Chapter 2

Sometimes the most monumentous days start no differently than the rest, and so it was on this day at the royal palace. Snow and Charming had taken to the library, as was their daily habit, to enjoy some morning reading. Sitting with their backs to the massive oak bookcases, they had settled side by side in lounge chairs, enjoying each others' quiet company. Merely twenty minutes into their respite, a knock came at the door, disrupting their peaceful morning routine.

"Your Highnesses?" a voice sounded, the door sliding open a crack to reveal a royal messenger. "There is a visitor here to see you."

Snow's focus remained on her book as she replied. "We're otherwise engaged at the moment. Please let them know they'll need an appointment."

There was a pause before the servant answered. "He says it is urgent."

"Then you may pass a message on to one of our advisors. They can handle it."

"The visitor demands to speak directly with you. He said that I should tell you his name is..." The messenger hesitated, dread filling his eyes before he gulped and continued in a whisper, "Rumplestiltskin."

The princess' eyes lifted from her reading at this. "Please show him to the parlor. We'll be down momentarily." Her reply was delivered in a well-practiced calm, perfected after ruling through two decades of crises, and she was careful not to visibly react despite the concern that had sprung up and twisted her stomach into knots. Certainly she understood the servant's dread, as the princess had never known a visit of Rumplestiltskin's to foretell any sort of pleasantness, and even her persistent optimism did not allow the possibility that this visit might be any different.

The servant gave a nod and allowed the door to the library to swing shut as he retreated. Once the door was firmly closed, Snow's gaze shifted to her husband. "Rumplestiltskin... What do you think that he wants?"

Charming locked eyes with her, no hint of a smile visible and Snow knew instantly that he was in agreement with her about the severity of the situation. "I have an idea," he said in a low voice, "but I certainly hope that I'm wrong."

Though it had been over a decade since they'd discussed the deal that they had made with the sorcerer, they were both well-aware of the stakes as Emma's birthday neared. Once their daughter became old enough to understand such things, Charming had convinced Snow there was no use in fretting over what they couldn't control, and as such they came to an agreement to put it out of their minds and live their lives without the constant dread of the visit they knew would one day come. Though both hoped that they were wrong, the timing of the sorcerer's arrival left them hard-pressed to find another reason for his sudden appearance.

"She comes of age tomorrow..." Snow said quietly, and as her husband held her gaze, he could see the fear seeping into her eyes.

"I know," the prince replied, mirroring her concern. "Let's just hope _he_ doesn't."

* * *

><p>Rumplestiltskin sat in a high backed chair near the fireplace, dark woods and rich fabrics surrounding him as he waited in the parlor that the royals reserved for entertaining their most important guests. He fidgeted idly with his fingers, eager to get the show underway. His eyes lit upon the doorway as he heard approaching footsteps, watching with mild amusement as the prince swept into the room, finding his assertive demeanor ironic in light of the impending conversation.<p>

Charming's eyes showed no light as they landed on his long-time adversary. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Ah, the Prince has arrived," came the reply, the elder man expertly avoiding the question.

"We did not have a choice, now did we?" replied Snow as she entered mere steps behind her husband.

"I suppose not," Rumplestiltskin conceded. "I do pride myself on being a rather commanding presence. As for the subject matter of my visit - I do believe tomorrow is the princess' birthday, is it not?"

"It is," replied her mother. "She'll be of age." A pause and then, "Is that to what we owe this visit?"

The sorcerer smiled, feigning innocence as a contrast to his words. "Well, dearie... what do you think?" He paused before continuing, watching the royal couple lock eyes in lieu of responding. "I do believe we had a deal."

The prince broke his wife's gaze to step towards Rumplestiltskin. "You cannot seriously mean to collect on that!"

"Yes well... generally if I make a deal, then I do indeed do mean to collect on it," he replied with a giggle. "As it happens, I do believe I was promised your daughter's hand in marriage." Seeing the rage rise in the prince's eyes, he held a hand up in defense, ducking his head slightly as he amended his statement. "All right, all right, rather I was promised the choice of to whom your daughter's hand would be given... certainly I have no need for it myself."

"And have you made such a choice?" Charming asked, his eyes growing wide.

"Indeed I have."

"Emma will never agree to it," he replied defiantly, squaring his shoulders as he readied for the battle ahead.

"Has she been left unaware of our agreement?!" the sorcerer exclaimed, his displeasure clear.

Despite her best efforts, Snow blushed a bit under the admonishment. "Yes, we-"

"We never saw it fit to tell her," Charming interrupted before Snow resumed pleading her case.

"We believed you'd relent-"

Rumpelstiltskin let out a high-pitched giggle, fairly dancing in his place in excitement. "You expected me to relent on a deal? My, we really have not seen much of each other lately, have we."

"We expected that you could not possibly be so cruel as to expect a mere child to marry a stranger," snapped the prince.

"But that is how it is done in this land, is not not? Marriages for political alliance, marriages for financial gain - or have we forgotten dear Abigail already?"

"Yet Abigail and I both ultimately married our true loves," the prince fired back.

"Ah, yet dear Princess Emma will not be so lucky. Perhaps love will follow the marriage?"

"Doubtful."

"Well if your daughter refuses to make good on the deal..." Rumplestiltskin trailed off, punctuating his statement with a giggle to highlight the threat that had been evident in his voice.

"Our daughter will do what is in the best interests of the kingdom," Charming replied.

"Is there something that can be offered to you in exchange for leaving this decision in Emma's hands?" Snow asked, speaking softly in hopes that she might appeal to the sorcerer's penchant for bargaining.

"Of course," he replied, a dangerous glint in his eye. "I'd gladly take your heads on a platter."

"You'd sooner punish a mere child than allow us to amend the deal?" Charming replied, stepping towards Rumplestiltskin as his temper flared again.

The Dark One rose to his feet and stared back, unblinking. "This deal was not at an insignificant price. You've had eighteen years with your daughter that you would not have had otherwise. Or have you forgotten the consequence of the Dark Curse?"

"But you were able to avoid the curse - it is no longer a threat," the prince growled.

"But all magic comes with a price, dearie, and the magic I employed in subverting the curse was not insignificant."

"So the price..."

"Remains Emma's hand, or your lives. Your choice!"

Snow and Charming exchanged a glance, decades of shared decisions lending the ability to communicate without words as they silently agreed upon what they needed to do. "Colleen?" Snow called, stepping into the hall to hail the servant. "Can you call Emma in, please?"

"Certainly, m'lady," the maid agreed.

Several minutes ticked past with the room's occupants in silent deadlock until the young princess appeared in the room. She scooted in through the rear door, the one which that backed up to the family's quarters, rather than the main one used by those who might be arriving to seek the counsel of the royal family. "Yes Mama? Daddy?"

"Emma..." Snow began, "We would like you to meet an... acquaintance of ours. Rumplestiltskin."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," she replied demurely, cautiously, as the man's reputation preceded him.

"Emma, Rumplestiltskin has come to collect on a debt we owe him, payment for a service he provided to us many years ago."

"A debt?"

"Indeed."

Emma looked between her parents, puzzled at her inclusion in this discussion. "What sort of debt? Is there something that you need from me in particular? Cannot this debt be repaid with gold, with livestock..."

"It is not that sort of debt, dear Emma." Snow faltered, pausing in her explanation as she debated the least damaging way to reveal the situation to her beloved daughter. "Many years ago, your father and I were faced with a desperate, impossible choice. In order to save you, in order to save the kingdom, we made a promise that Rumplestiltskin could arrange your marriage."

Emma stared at them, speechless, several moments ticking past before she was able to manage even the simplest of replies. "You... what?"

"Please don't be angry, Emma. Just hear your mother out," her father asked, pleading.

Her father's pleas had exactly the opposite effect as he'd hoped, as Emma's temper came charging in with abandon. "You promised me away in marriage, never consulted me on the matter, and you want me to _not_ _be angry_?"

"The alternative-"

"The alternative should have been to advise me that you'd bartered away my life!"

"Emma, we didn't-"

"Didn't you?" She cut her father off once again. "I am quite certain that we are standing here with this strange man insisting he arrange my marriage, are we not?"

Her parents did not argue or affirm, but simply dropped their gazes as Emma turned to address their guest. "Have you chosen a suitor for me already?" she asked. "I'm not yet of age!"

"But in a day's time, you will be," he responded, an air of smugness surrounding him.

"You didn't answer my question," she replied, anger bubbling over as she advanced towards the sorcerer.

"Well of course I have," he replied flippantly. "Why else would I be here, if not to collect on the deal?"

Emma willed away her nerves and drew on her anger as she replied through clenched teeth. "And who, pray tell, have you arranged for me to marry?"

"Nothing but the finest for you, dear princess - I have decided are you to marry my son!" he exclaimed with a flourish.

Snow and Charming gaped at this, astonished not only at Rumplestiltskin's choice but the familial revelation it contained. Emma, meanwhile, was too angry at the entire concept to form words, narrowing her eyes and gritting her teeth as she struggled to pull in a breath and ease it out slowly - an attempt to keep her temper in check. It was Snow who regained her composure first, addressing him with the only thought she could formulate into a coherent sentence. "I didn't know you had a son."

"Most don't," he replied with annoyance. "I've had a life outside of being the Dark One, you know."

Emma finally regained her voice and began lashing out once again. "I have heard tales of your dealings, Dark One, and I can only imagine the horrors you've passed on to a child. I cannot imagine any leverage causing me to concede that union."

"Not even your parents' lives?"

"You wouldn't," she said, glowering.

"Ah ah, it's in the contract, dearie," he replied, producing it from thin air and watching her horrified expression with amusement as it unfurled in front of her. "My terms were quite clear."

She locked eyes with him in defiance, searching for any sign of a bluff but she found none. Without releasing his gaze, she spoke again through clenched jaw, "There must be another way."

"Well dearie, I've provided you with two, I don't see any use wasting my energy in finding a third."

She closed her eyes and drew a breath in through her nose, mind running wild as she searched for a way out of the situation. Stalling for time, she steadied herself as she pushed the breath back out and forced her eyes open, asking, "Why don't you tell me about your son, then."

"Bae was... lost to me for a time. He has returned but seems unhappy with his lot in life. I suspect that providing him with a wife will improve his disposition."

"You expect wedding him to a perfect stranger will make him content with his situation? Certainly you must be kidding. "

"On the contrary, Princess," he sneered. "'Kidding' is not a thing that I do. Bae is lonely, in need of companionship, and you'll do nicely."

Emma cast a glance at her parents, hoping that they would send her a signal or come to her rescue in some manner, but instead she found them looking back at her with apologies in their eyes. In that moment she had the horrifying realization that her parents had resigned themselves to following through with the arrangement they'd made so long ago, leaving her in this fight on her own. Involuntarily, she gave a hard swallow before shifting her eyes back to meet the inhuman ones that were staring her down. Scrambling to keep her footing in the conversation, she tried yet another tack. "Am I at least permitted to meet this person I'm expected to marry?"

"Certainly," the sorcerer replied, his reaction to her request surprisingly reasonable and without snark. "Baelfire," he called, "Please come meet your bride!"

Emma saw a boy of about her age reluctantly round the corner, presumably having been asked by his father to wait in the hall. She regarded him warily; at first blush there did not appear to be anything untoward about him, though you never could tell. He was a touch taller than her, wavy brown hair, dressed in respectable clothing with his nerves plastered all over his face. His eyes met hers and he tossed her a shy smile, receiving little more than a scowl for his efforts.

"Hello," the boy greeted her cordially. "I'm Baelfire. Bae, if you will. Pleased to meet you."

"Truly wish I could say the same, sir," Emma replied curtly.

Bae opened his mouth and closed it a couple of times, unsure how to deal with such rudeness coming from the blonde standing in front of him. Finally he settled on an apology. "I'm terribly sorry, princess, to have upset you so."

"You're sorry for upsetting me? What sort of reaction did you expect, marching into my home and demanding my hand in marriage?"

"Don't pay Emma any mind," Snow interjected, finally finding her voice in her desperation to save the meeting. "She's just in a bit of shock. We all are, to be honest. I'm sure you can understand."

"Certainly, m'lady," he replied with a bow. "Unfortunately I've found that my father tends to have that effect on people."

"Please, call me Snow. It seems we're to be family, no need for formalities."

Bae merely nodded, deference to the royal leaders a long-instilled habit. Emma, for her part, sneered at the conversation and - despite her earlier revelation - attempted to appeal to her parents once more. "Am I truly expected to marry this boy? I don't even know him! For all I know, he could be a deviant!"

He bristled a bit at this, the gracious shell fading slightly as he fed off of her impertinent attitude. "_I_ could be a deviant? With all due respect, m'lady, am I to assume that you are pure of heart simply because you are a princess? Which is it that you object to, the fact that I am merely a spinner's son, or the son of the Dark One?"

Emma's eyes grew wide, unaccustomed to having someone match her sharp tongue. Before she could fire back another barb, her father stepped forward and placed a firm hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps this discussion would best be shelved for the moment, to allow our young people their rest. We can reconvene in a while, after some supper?"

"Yes, it seems that would be wise," Rumplestiltskin agreed.

"You and your son are welcome to visit the garden, and I will have Colleen make up a chamber for you to relax in. Supper will be in ninety minutes," the prince offered.

"Thank you, sir," Bae replied.

* * *

><p>Once they reached the garden, Bae again attempted to appeal to his father. "Papa, truly there must be a way around this, something not requiring me to marry this girl!"<p>

"Baelfire," his father growled, "We have been over this. The deal must be fulfilled. Nobody breaks deals with me!"

"PAPA!" he hollered back. "This is absurd! You heard her in there - she is utterly spoiled, she has a terrible temper - and furthermore she dreads the idea of being wed to a stranger! What kind of life do you think we will have together?"

"A life where you will be respected, where you can be prince of this land instead of being the disrespected son of a cowardly spinner, or feared because you are the son of the Dark One."

"But I do not want to be a prince!" he protested. "And I do not want to marry a girl who does not want to marry me!"

Rumplestiltskin let his son's protests roll off of his back, shrugging his shoulders as he continued to press his point. "Ah, but Bae, princeship is what you deserve, and as your father it's my job to make sure you get what you deserve out of life."

"But I do not want it, Papa. I do not want that marriage and I do not want that life!" He stepped towards his father, placing a hand on his arm as he dropped his voice. "Please - let's return home to your castle and leave this family to their devices."

"Bae," he replied, a threat brewing just below his eerily calm surface, "We will not depart without the deal being fulfilled. You will marry the princess, and she will be accompanying us when we return home."

"Papa!"

"Enough!" Rumplestiltskin roared, causing Bae to jump back in shock at the sudden swing in his attitude. "You will see this through and in time, you will see that I have done this _for_ you."

"I shall never, never see that. You have not committed this atrocity for me - it has been done only for the benefit you seek for yourself."

* * *

><p>"Emma," Snow began, pleading with her daughter as she watched her pacing furiously in the parlor.<p>

"What?" Emma replied, visibly seething.

"Just let us explain-"

At that, Emma's anger boiled over. "Explain that you sold me away like some sort of cattle, that you expect me to marry a total stranger, that my choice in the matter is not a choice at all? Explain how not for a moment did you jump to my defense? Explain how for eighteen years you never once mentioned this was to be my fate?"

"This was to save you, Emma, from a fate far worse. To save our kingdom, to save-"

"Well," she said bitterly, cutting her mother off, "Now it is to save yourselves."

"Emma," Snow said softly as she advanced towards her daughter, placing a hand on her arm, pleading evident in her tone of voice. "Emma, please. You have to understand the position we were in."

"What I _understand_ is the position that _I_ am now in. In less than a day, I will be ripped from my life, married to someone who is not only a stranger but the _son of the Dark One_, and carted away to someone else's home to live as they will for me. I don't know what worse fate you were saving me from, but I am hard pressed to imagine a fate worse than that."

With that, Emma turned on her heel and fled the room, ignoring the cries of her parents as they echoed behind her as she dashed down the hall.

* * *

><p><em>Keep your chin up, breathe deep, don't cry, Emma<em> - don't cry! - _chin up, breathe, don't cry, chin up, breathe, don't cry, _she repeated to herself, over and over, the words in her head chanting to the rhythm of her hurried steps as she walked as quickly as she could without arousing the suspicion of the staff. She ducked into a side corridor, years of using the castle as her own personal maze and playground finally proving themselves useful as she took a circuitous route to her chamber in hopes of eluding her mother's pursuit. Emma knew that Snow would be on her heels, trying to smooth the situation over as she always did - and usually she was successful. But this time was different, Emma knew, not some tiff about social engagements or her responsibilities as a member of the royal family. As she rounded the final corner to her chamber, she checked to ensure the hallway was clear before darting down it and into the room she'd had since she was a tiny child, swinging the heavy door shut behind her and sliding the lock into place.

Finally assured of being alone, she curled onto her bed and allowed herself the luxury of a few stray tears escaping from the corners of her eyes and sliding onto her pillow. Being a strong-willed child of strong-willed parents, arguing with them was something that was not foreign to her - but the one thing they'd always offered to her was honesty, and she'd grown up feeling that she could trust them implicitly. Finding out that they'd kept this secret from her for her entire life was a betrayal of enormous magnitude, making her question the very foundation of that relationship. Shattered was the only word that came to mind, as if her entire world had crumbled in the course of a single conversation, and she wasn't sure how the pieces could ever be restructured into what they'd been before.

It wasn't the fact that she'd have an arranged marriage that bothered her, per se. Certainly, she was raised understanding that she had responsibilities to the kingdom and to the royal line, but she'd also been raised knowing that her parents had married for love and that they'd had the same hopes for her. She'd expected that should a different situation arise, should a political marriage become necessary, she'd at least have some time to become acquainted with her betrothed before the wedding date - at a minimum, to be able to ensure that he was not entirely boorish or ill-tempered. The fact that such an arrangement had never been a possibility, to know that her parents had known it would never happen and yet they had not seen fit to prepare her for the eventuality of what was to come ate at her very soul.

Those thoughts swirled around and around until another one rose to take its place, this one the full weight of what her next days were to be. This would be her last night in her home - the place she'd lived her entire life - and tomorrow would bring a new and terrifying frontier. She'd be spirited away to live with strangers, utterly alone and at their mercy, and that thought was almost paralyzing. She'd go, without question, to spare her parents' lives, but the reality of the situation brought a fresh round of tears to her eyes.

A knock at the door startled Emma from her thoughts, though it shouldn't have been particularly surprising - she'd known her mother would find her sooner rather than later. "Go away," she called, voice muffled by the bedding that surrounded her face but still audible through the door.

"Emma-"

"Go away!" she yelled, lifting her head and fighting back the sobs that rose suddenly and threatened to burst forth at the sound of her mother's voice. After all, what was one to do when the person most able to provide them comfort was a primary source of their heartache?

"Emma, please-"

"GO AWAY!" she screamed, sitting up as her emotions finally burst forth and she dissolved into sobs, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Emma was vaguely aware of her mother's quiet cries through the door before she heard the sound of her footsteps retreating, but she couldn't bring herself to rise and stop her. Instead she resumed her tightly curled position on top of her duvet, arms clutching the pillow that was absorbing her tears as she cried out her frustration, fear and the feelings of betrayal that dwarfed it all.

* * *

><p>It wasn't long after that encounter that the appointed time for dinner arose, and the prince and princess entered the dining hall with heavy hearts. Snow had taken a few minutes to freshen up after her crying jag, determined to present a strong front to their visitors.<p>

"Where is the princess?" Rumplestiltskin asked, clearly deriving some sort of twisted pleasure from watching the small family crumble.

"She won't be joining us this evening," Snow replied, chin lifted as she dared the sorcerer to defy her.

"You'll allow her to sulk in her room instead of getting to know her betrothed?" he needled.

"You leave her alone," Charming interjected. "You may decide her fate tomorrow, but tonight she is still our daughter and we will parent as her we see fit. Emma needs some space to process all that has happened and we shall allow her to have it."

Rumplestiltskin stared him down for a long moment before finally producing a curt nod. "Very well," he replied. "Baelfire, have a seat, please."

The boy did as was requested. The prince seated himself at the head of the table, as was customary, with his wife to his right. Across from her was their daughter's young suitor, wide-eyed and uncertain as he sat trapped between his own father and the one he was slated to acquire. The table stretched on down beyond them, far too large for a party of this size, but Snow and Charming had agreed that dining in the nook where the family typically took their meals was out of the question. The intrusion on the family's safe space was simply too much to endure at the moment.

"Bae, is it?" the prince asked, addressing the young man as dinner was placed before the foursome.

Bae nodded, eyes trained respectfully on the prince. "Short for Baelfire."

"A most unusual name," the prince replied, searching for things to discuss with the boy as he attempted to evaluate him, to determine if he was a threat to his daughter before allowing the union to occur.

"My mother chose it," Bae replied.

"And where is she?" Snow asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Dead," came the reply, delivered coarsely as only Rumplestiltskin could. Bae shot a glare at him, causing Snow and Charming to exchange a look as they wondered about the background of the strained father-son relationship.

"I'm so sorry," Snow replied, eyes fixed on Bae as she tried to glean more information about him. "I, too, lost my mother at a young age."

Bae nodded, accepting her condolences. "It was just Papa and I growing up, until-" He cut himself off, glancing up at his father and giving a shake of his head. "Well, I suppose it doesn't much matter now."

"We'd like to get to know you, Bae," Charming offered again. "You'll be marrying our daughter, which means you'll be family. And family is the most important thing to Snow and I." Bae nodded again, indicating his understanding even as he remained quiet. The prince continued with his line of questioning by asking, "What can you tell us about yourself? Do you have a trade? Hobbies, interests..."

Bae furrowed his brow as he considered. "I draw a bit, I enjoy reading..." He sent a bitter look towards his father. "I don't get out much, to be honest."

"Bae's a lovely boy," Rumplestiltskin offered up. "I think you'll find Emma to be quite happy with him. The arrangement was for her to marry a good man, and Bae is just that. He won't hurt your daughter, of that you have my word - for what little it's worth. He's a far better son than I deserve."

Snow and Charming exchanged another glance, neither responding to the endorsement. Bae sat uncomfortably as they turned their focus back onto him, intending to resume their interrogation, when instead the dining room door opened. The table went silent, all eyes falling on the young bride-to-be as she entered the hall.

Wordlessly, Emma's eyes darted about the table, finding Bae in her normal spot. Three times she circled the group with her eyes, trying to decide which seating position was the least threatening before finally settling on the seat next to her mother. Barely a minute after she was seated, a plate was surreptitiously placed in front of her and she began to eat quietly, failing to offer a greeting or acknowledgement to any of her tablemates. Finally, Rumplestiltskin was the one to break the silence, eyes fixed on the table's newest arrival.

"Any requests for your wedding, then? I think noon will do nicely as a start time."

Emma slowly looked up at him as she lowered her fork, drawing her shoulders back and folding her hands into her lap. Was this man out of his mind? "Are you truly asking me if I have requests for the wedding I am being forced into?"

"Well I thought that perhaps you'd enjoy having a say in some aspects of the ceremony, but it appears I was mistaken." Looking at his son, he continued. "Bae? Any suggestions?"

Bae merely stared back, his usual emotion of incredulousness at his father's actions rising to the surface, and blinked as Rumplestiltskin shifted his focus once again, this time landing on the prince and princess to his right. "I trust that you have someone on staff authorized to perform weddings, do you not?"

"We do," Snow replied quietly.

"Very well then. We will convene in the great hall at noon. Ensure that Emma has her trunk packed beforehand, we'll begin the journey home directly after the ceremony."

"You'll do no such thing," Charming growled, nearly knocking his chair over as he jumped to his feet.

Rumplestiltskin lounged back in his chair. "Calm yourself! I've already told you, no harm will come to your daughter. Did you really think she'd continue to live at home, stay here with Mommy and Daddy, after being married? You know just as well as I do that it's customary in this land for brides to go with their grooms, and Emma will be doing exactly that." Observing the prince's still-stormy disposition and flaring nostrils, the sorcerer continued. "It's not me that she is marrying, and it's not me she will be coming with. I have no plans to interfere in this relationship, and I am not spiriting your daughter away, merely taking her with her husband to their new home. Surely you can appreciate that this is an expected effect of a marriage!"

"He's right, Charming," Snow offered, to the surprise of all present. "If she's to marry this boy, she needs to go with him. Her place will be by his side."

Her husband blinked at her, and she looked around the table to find four sets of eyes fixated on her. "You're in support of this?" he asked.

"If we've no choice but to let the wedding proceed, the best thing we can do is let Emma try to forge a life with him."

"Even your wife is in agreement," Rumplestiltskin addressed the angry father. "Settle down and finish your supper." As he found his seat, the sorcerer continued. "Bae and I are finished here, we'll leave the three of you to eat your meals in peace. We'll see you tomorrow at noon."

* * *

><p>Much later, after the sun had set, she'd seen to the comfort of their guests and checked on their daughter, Snow crawled into bed next to her husband. She could tell by his breathing that he'd not yet fallen asleep, and she laid her head on his shoulder, pressing a comforting kiss to his cheek before he broke the silence.<p>

"Do you think we did the right thing?" he asked, voice soft and contemplative.

She thought for a minute, considering the best way to answer the question she'd asked herself countless times that day. "I don't think we were left with a choice. We made this decision long ago, Charming, we have to trust that it was the right one."

The pillowcase crackled as the prince shook his head, shrouded in self-doubt. "Do you really think it was, though? To allow her to be carted off to that monster's home... it just feels like we've traded our daughter's life for our own, or for the well-being of our kingdom. The burden we've put on her is enormous." He sighed. "I just want Emma to be happy."

"Charming..." Snow matched his sigh, struggling to express the multitude of feelings she had on the subject. "I want the same for her, you know that I do. I just don't know that second guessing ourselves is the best way to help her achieve that. It's impossible to know what her life would have looked like if we'd made a different decision. As terrible as things look right now... if we hadn't made this deal, there's no telling how she'd be, _where_ she'd be, on the eve of her 18th birthday. Perhaps it would be a better situation than this, but the possibility exists that it would be worse. She would have grown up in a foreign land without us, without _anyone. _What type of person would she be? What type of life would she lead? We have no way of knowing if the choices she'd be forced to make in that life might be worse than the choices that have been made in this one. I have to have faith that we've done the best we could by her, given her her best chance. And right now that means standing by her, supporting her however we can as she sets off on this new chapter."

"How do we do that, though? She won't be here for us to support her."

She rolled over to look at him, catching his gaze in the dim moonlight as she sent him a gentle smile. "She'll still be around, she'll still come to visit us. It won't be the same, and I worry for her happiness, but I don't think this Bae will hurt her. Rumplestiltskin is a complicated man, but he's given his word that he won't interfere after the marriage. I have to believe that to be true. We've no option but to let her go, and I can't live in fear for her. She'll always be our little girl, but the time has come to let her live out her life as we've raised her to do."

"We didn't prepare her for this, though. She's been raised to rule a kingdom, not to play hostage to a deranged sorcerer."

"And she shall rule the kingdom, dear, some day. Give them some time to settle in and we can talk about those expectations once things have normalized again."

He sighed once more. "I thought these times were behind us, that we were living our happily ever after."

"And I have faith that we shall yet. Emma will find her way in this, of that I am certain."

* * *

><p><strong>AN - Thanks for the great reception to this story - it is (obviously) quite a bit different than Bent, but I am really enjoying it and I hope you all do, too! Please be patient with me; the first few updates will be a bit slower in posting but you have my word that I won't abandon ship and it should pick up after that!**

**Continued thanks to textbookone for serving as my faithful beta. You know I couldn't do it without you! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N -**

**1) I am a terrible person who clearly is unable to update in a timely fashion. All I can say for myself is that a) I promise to keep writing this and b) I am sorry for slowness of updates.**

**2) THANK YOU as always to beta textbookone. Also, thank you Astrawoid for giving this a read-through for me and your input! Much appreciated! :)**

**3) I don't mind anon reviews (I appreciate ALL reviews, thank you!) or criticisms but unfortunately I have no way to answer them... so to the anon who asked about Emma's siblings (or lack thereof) - I'd be happy to explain my reasoning there but you'll need to shoot me a PM, since I started writing out my answer and it would rival the length of the chapter, ha ha!**

**THANKS as always for everyone's kind words - I hope you enjoy this one! **

* * *

><p>The next morning, Bae lay staring at the ceiling, studying its unfamiliar pattern as the impending events of the day ran through his mind. He glanced from his cot to the large bed where his father slept, snoring softly as if he hadn't a care in the world. Bae sighed, rolling to his side and readjusting his blankets as he considered the heartache his father's manipulations were causing for yet another family. He made a mental vow to apologize to this Emma as soon as he could - likely once they arrived back at his father's castle. He could only imagine how angry and frightened she must be - she had no reason to trust that he'd respect her space and autonomy, leaving her to live her life as she wished despite the legal bond his father insisted on putting them under. Leveraging her parents' lives as he'd done would undoubtedly cause the girl to agree to untold horrors, and once again Bae felt the crushing guilt that rose from the myriad of actions his father had taken in his name. Dreading the union though he might, he stood firm in the mindset that he could not and would not be responsible for permanently destroying this family. At least with Emma as his bride, her parents would still have the opportunity to receive visits from her and enjoy their daughter's company - something they could not do if they were dead.<p>

Across the castle, Emma tossed and turned, similar thoughts swirling through her mind. She'd fallen into a hard sleep shortly after dinner, but that welcome release had been short-lived. Her dreamless slumber had given way to nightmares, each time losing her parents in a different and newly terrifying way, and by shortly after midnight she'd given up the pretense that she'd get any rest at all. Seeing morning's first light peeking through the drapes, she tossed back the covers in frustration and climbed out of bed, heading for her closet to begin the arduous task of packing the trunk she'd been instructed to have ready. As she moved across the room, Emma caught a glance at herself in the mirror and couldn't help but let out a bitter laugh; while she'd certainly never had a wedding day before, she was quite certain this was not the look of a typical bride-to-be. Somewhere between the dark circles under her eyes and look of dread plastered across her face, the sight almost made her smile in its irony. The feeling was short-lived, though, with her stomach resuming its angry churning before long while she prepared to face the day.

As the sun continued its climb into the sky, the occupants of a castle on the other side of the kingdom began stirring as well. Their slumber had been far more productive than that of the young couple, having lasted since the princess' birth eighteen years earlier. "Come now, wake up," one said to the other, using a toe to prod the sagging mattress on which he slept. "The time has come, and we must formulate a plan."

* * *

><p>There was a quiet tap on Emma's door before it was pushed open a crack and her mother's voice streamed in. "Emma? I brought you some breakfast," she said, stepping in and sliding the door closed behind her.<p>

Snow surveyed the room; at the foot of her daughter's bed sat the massive trunk that had been brought in the previous evening, a few odds and ends tossed into the bottom of it. Several pairs of trousers lay folded across the propped up lid and a dozen dresses lay strewn across the four-poster bed. She could hear the daughter in question inside of her dressing room, mumbling to herself as she sorted through the garments inside. It was clear from the chaos that Emma was at a loss as to how to pack for a journey of this magnitude. Snow heaved a sigh, realizing she'd likely been working at it for hours and wishing she'd thought to come in to assist much earlier.

She set the breakfast tray on the bedside table and called her daughter's name again, sticking her head into the closet as she did so. Emma jumped, looking up at her mother sheepishly as she held up two nearly identical shawls, clearly in debate over which to take with her. "Oh, hi Mama," she said, her anger of the previous day appearing to have simmered down. "I was just trying to get my things ready."

"I see," Snow replied, actively biting back a smile at the tornadic conditions of her daughter's room. "Perhaps I could assist you?"

"I'd appreciate it," Emma said, blushing with embarrassment at the mess she'd made. "I'm not sure what exactly I should be taking, what I should leave behind, how much the trunk will hold..."

"Relax," her mother replied. "You'll start by eating the breakfast I brought you, then we'll talk it through together." She held her hands out in front of her and Emma nodded, depositing the shawls into them as she walked past her mother and into the bedroom.

"It's just so much, Mama," she said, her overwhelming emotions seeping through as she perched on the edge of her bed and pulled the tray towards her, absentmindedly picking apart the edges of the toast that lay on it. "I don't even know where to begin."

Snow followed, setting the shawls down on a pile of discarded garments as she walked past. "You begin at the beginning, just as you do for any journey we take."

"But the beginning always starts with, 'How long will we be gone for?' And I don't know what to do when the answer is 'forever," she said, the corners of her mouth turning down against her will as she fought back a fresh round of tears.

"Oh, Emma," came the reply, and her mother crossed the room in three quick strides. "It isn't so bad as all that. You'll be back to visit us regularly, I know you will."

"It's not the same," she protested, "This isn't just some small visit. This is me, leaving my home, going to live with a boy I've just met. How do I do that, Mama? How do I pack up everything, my entire life, in a single trunk?"

"You just do," she said, wrapping her arms around her daughter and rubbing soothing circles on her back. "You take what we think you'll need for now, and you can get the rest next time you're here. It'll be all right, Emma," she reassured her.

"That's easy for you to say," Emma said, lifting her head up and sniffling. "You're not the one being sent off with the Dark One."

"No," she replied, "But I've faced uncertain spots in life before. You just do the best you can and keep pressing forward."

"Keep pressing forward?! Mama, surely you must speak in jest. In a matter of hours, my life as I knew it - every hope and dream that stretched before me just yesterday - will be over. I have to stand up in front of the royal court and vow to love this boy for all eternity. How am I to do that when I've barely said two words to him?"

"You'll make it work, Emma. Your father and I have arranged to have a small, private ceremony so that there will be fewer eyes on the two of you. I have faith that you can hold your temper long enough to get through it."

She shook her head. "It's not the ceremony I'm worried about, Mama. It's the life that follows after that."

"He won't be a stranger forever, Emma."

"Is that supposed to make it better?" she asked doubtfully.

"Perhaps it will, Emma, in time... perhaps as you get to know him you'll find common ground, something to bond over."

Emma closed her eyes and sighed, growing weary of her mother's blind optimism. "Or perhaps I'll find that he and I have completely different ideals, and we'll be miserable into perpetuity." She could feel her frustrations rising to the surface again, and decided that perhaps it would be better to dismiss her mother than to begin snapping at her. "Thank you for the breakfast, Mama. I think I can finish the packing on my own."

"Nonsense, Emma! I'll be happy to help," Snow said, standing and heading again for the closet.

"Please... I think it's best you go," Emma replied, her tone stopping her mother in her tracks as her patience grew thin. "I think I'd like a few minutes of solitude."

"If that's truly what you wish," Snow replied, unconvinced but willing to bow to her daughter's wishes.

"Please," Emma replied, confirming her wishes with a nod, and so Snow returned to her and pressed a kiss onto the crown of her head. She stepped back, sending her a weak smile before turning to exit, and Emma willed herself not to dissolve into tears once the door had shut behind her mother. Instead, she took a deep breath before sliding down off of the bed and returning to the puzzle that was her closet, where she began tugging her favorite garments off of their hangers in earnest. Best to get the packing out of the way and ensure that the trunk was ready - as had been demanded - rather than risking the wrath of Rumplestiltskin.

* * *

><p>Some time later, Prince Charming knocked on Emma's door and opened it without waiting for a response. He found her seated on the closed trunk that now held the most important of her possessions, clutching the ivory blanket she'd toted around since infancy and staring blankly into the corner of the room. The dried tear tracks on her face only told half the story, but as she turned to face him, the hurt and accusations in her eyes completed it. "Emma," he addressed her, "I know you think no one understands what you're going through. But I do."<p>

She stared back at him wordlessly, a single blink her only acknowledgement of his words as her expression communicated disbelief. "I was once in a similar spot myself," he continued. "Before I knew your mother. I'd been betrothed against my will, under the same threat - to marry or to watch my mother die, our farm burned. You've heard me speak of her - your grandmother Ruth - who gave her life so that your mother and I would have the opportunity at a life together. Sometimes I think we should have named you after her, for she was as kind and selfless a woman as I've ever known. All she wanted was my happiness, even at the expense of her own life, and I could not repay that by allowing her to be killed."

Emma could feel her defenses melting and fought to keep them up, reminding herself that this was yet another tale she'd been sheltered from her entire life. "Why have I never heard this story?"

"You have, in a way; it was Abigail I was with when your mother stopped my carriage."

In Emma's surprise, she forgot for a moment to be angry. "Abigail, James' _mother_ Abigail?"

"One and the same," her father replied with a sigh. "I was masquerading as King George's son, James - another one of Rumplestiltskin's doings - when Midas declared that we should unite the kingdoms. It was when I hesitated that George threatened my mother. Abigail was... not the sweet woman you know now. She came across as haughty, unfeeling and unkind. It turns out that she was mourning the loss of Frederick, and it was not until we were able to get him back that I was able to see her for who she truly was."

Her eyes narrowed again. "Are you trying to get me to give this Baelfire a chance, saying he may not be as he appears?"

"I observed him at dinner last night, Emma, and he does not seem to be a beast. Perhaps in time, the two of you could come to an understanding, forge a friendship." He heard Emma snort, clearly finding the idea preposterous. "But you know, my darling daughter... it wasn't until yesterday that I fully understood what my mother felt all of those years ago. She was willing to be killed in order for me to be free to choose love. I'd like you to know I'd do the same. If you'd like to refuse this union, your mother and I will stand by you. We will call Rumplestiltskin's bluff, and if he takes our lives, so be it. Your mother and I made this deal with him to give you your best chance, and I still want you to have that chance."

Emma met his gaze finally, locking eyes with her father as she shook her head with determination before she spoke. "Certainly, then, you can understand why allowing that to happen is not an option for me. Daddy... I know you mean well but there is not a choice in this. I need you both, I'd be utterly lost without the two of you. I can't allow you to be killed so that I can search for a silly romantic notion, one that may not even exist. I've always known that an arranged marriage was a possibility, were we to find it in the best interests of the kingdom. I just wish I'd known that it was a certainty, that you and Mama had seen fit to tell me about this arrangement."

"Hindsight certainly makes things obvious, doesn't it? Knowing as we do now, we should have told you some time ago. We truly hoped it would not come to pass."

"As you keep saying," Emma said, bitterness creeping back into her voice. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts and keep her anger in check. "Come now, they'll be waiting for us." She stood so that she could lift the lid of the trunk, stowing her blanket inside of it before reaching for her father's hand and allowing him to escort her to the hall where the wedding was to take place.

* * *

><p>The wedding was far simpler than one would expect for the kingdom's sole heir, absent of finery, the traditional myriad of well-wishers or - frankly - much circumstance at all. It was, rather, precisely in line with what one would expect from a hastily arranged union, complete with an unenthusiastic bride and groom; the royal family's chaplain performed a simple ceremony, kept brief and attended only by the parents of the betrothed. The bride and groom managed to conduct themselves in a civilized fashion, undoubtedly assisted by Snow's foresight in convincing the chaplain that the groom's family traditionally concluded the ceremony by the joining of hands instead of sealing the union with a kiss. Her faith in her daughter's ability to hold her temper did have its limits, after all.<p>

Shortly after the conclusion of the ceremony, Emma's trunk was loaded onto the top of the carriage and the reluctant newlyweds climbed inside. Emma took one look at Bae and promptly sat on the opposite bench of the carriage, as far as she could possibly get from him, chin raised and jaw set. He abstained from the snarky remark he was considering when he realized that what he had mistaken as snobbery was instead a valiant attempt not to cry. He began mulling over what sort of compassionate comment he might be able to make when his father appeared in the carriage, interrupting his train of thought.

"This won't do at all," his father addressed the duo. "Bae, move over by your bride."

"But Papa-" the boy began in protest, only to be cut off by his father.

"Shh! Do as I've asked. This is no way to start off a marriage."

Reluctantly he crossed the carriage, shooting a smile of apology at Emma. For her part, she merely lifted her chin a few centimeters higher as she slid herself over to the carriage's side wall, leaving as much space between them as she could possibly manage.

The ride to the dark castle was a miserable one for all three involved. Emma's refusal to meet anyone's gaze permitted her to maintain her tear-free appearance, but whether she realized that she was fooling no one, neither man could tell. Her father-in-law tried to start conversation a few times, but neither bride nor groom was willing to engage him, and his temper was beginning to flare. Bae's refusal to speak was fortified by his gaze being firmly rooted to the floor.

As they approached the castle, the young duo was surprised to feel the carriage stop a half-mile shy of their destination. Their surprise only grew as Rumplestiltskin addressed them. "Well, it appears we have arrived. Bae, you'll find your things already arranged inside, and Emma, dearie, your trunk is just inside the door."

"How did you-" she began to ask, uttering her first words since leaving her parents, but she was cut off before she could complete her question.

"Magic," he replied, with a flair of his fingers.

"Where are we?" Bae chimed in.

"Your cottage, of course. Why, you didn't think it would be fitting for a pair of newlyweds to be living under the same roof as me, did you? You'll find I'm a short walk up the hill should you need anything."

"You're leaving us here... alone... together." Emma asked, incredulous. "What if he were to take advantage of me?"

"Well, you _are_ married, dearie. But never fear, Bae was raised to be a gentleman."

"And yet he's presented himself as anything but," she replied, her attitude returning.

"Well at least we're well-paired, since you act little like a lady yourself," he retorted.

"Enough! This is your new home. Consider it a wedding present, and _get out_."

"You'll forgive me if I forget to send a thank you note," Emma said with a snarl as she slammed the door of the carriage open and jumped out onto the ground. She stalked to the cottage door before turning around and firing another question in the general direction of the carriage, where Bae was disembarking. "What are we to eat, if we're to be held as prisoners here?"

"The kitchen will be kept fully stocked, but you'll be responsible for figuring out the preparation yourself." With that, the door slammed shut and the carriage resumed moving along the road towards the castle, leaving the beleaguered duo standing together by the roadside, shellshocked.

"I suppose we may as well go in," Bae stated, and Emma was so beside herself that she could not even come up with a retort.

Inside the cottage they found their belongings, just as Rumplestiltskin had promised. It was a simple dwelling, particularly in comparison to the castles each was used to, but not uncomfortable. In the back corner was a small kitchen area, featuring a solid wood table for seating as well as an ice box that Bae told Emma his father had undoubtedly enchanted to stay perpetually cold. The living space, forward of that, had an upholstered settee and a few high-backed chairs. A door led to a small bedroom with a mid-sized bed, big enough for two... if the two were quite fond of each other.

Poking her head into the bedroom, Emma's eyes widened. "I hope you enjoy sleeping on the settee," she said haughtily, dismissing any notion that the two of them might fit that criteria.

"Yes, it's where I'd always dreamed of spending my wedding night," Bae snarked back.

"As well as all the nights after," she replied. "Unless you can convince your father to procure an additional bed."

He snorted. "Fairly certain that won't be happening. Don't you see what he's doing? His hope is that he will force us together, and I will be SO grateful for bringing me such happiness that I will forgive him his past wrongs."

"Unfortunately for the both of you, that will not be happening."

"You don't have to tell me twice," he replied. "Spoiled princesses are not my style."

"Spoiled!" she spat. "Well, I never!" She fumed for a minute as she worked to formulate a comeback. "At least I didn't have to have my father threaten someone's life to marry me off."

"Do you sincerely think I was behind this, princess? _Believe me_, this is all my father's doing. I didn't ask for it and I didn't want it any more than you did."

"A likely story! Oh, poor son of the dark one, being forced to marry a princess. Somehow I am hard-pressed to believe that, _sir_," she mocked him.

"Whether you believe it or not, I did not choose this any more than you did. _Trust_ me, if I had I would have chosen a different bride." He sighed, the argument growing old. "Regardless of whether we want to be here, we are both stuck here, so we may as well get used to it and figure out how to co-exist."

"What do you mean, 'stuck here'?"

"Undoubtedly your instinct was right and my father has put up some sort of barrier spell, meaning that we are both effectively prisoners here."

Emma let out a frustrated growl and stomped her foot. "That man is insufferable! Where does he get off manipulating peoples' lives like this? What did your mother see in him, anyways?"

"Not much, I'm afraid."

"What?" she replied, stopping short at an answer she had not expected.

He gestured at the space around them. "You'll note she's not here."

"Oh." Emma quieted, bested for once. "My apologies."

He shrugged indifferently. "It's been a long time."

The two then lapsed into a silence that was at least not entirely uncomfortable, one that persisted throughout the evening with few interruptions as they padded around the cottage organizing their possessions. The silence was perhaps the best foot either had to put forward after the trials of the prior two days, passing as an attempt at civility - and for the moment, that was the most either could ask for.

Unbeknownst to the young couple, the duo in the castle across the kingdom had spent their day in much less silence, scheming and planning as they plotted ways to make their goals a reality. The effect that these two strangers would come to have on the lives of the young couple would be enormous - and if only the couple had known, they might have found it worth their time to put aside their differences to make some plans of their own.


End file.
